


The Way To A Man's Heart

by morethanmending



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Gen, Human Castiel, Mechanic Dean, Pie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 17:16:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8253916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morethanmending/pseuds/morethanmending
Summary: Modern Day AU.  Dean's Auto Shop used to be located right next to Singer Hardware - until Bobby sold out and retired and a new business moved in to take his place.  Dean's not really one for schmoozing with the neighbors, but after meeting Castiel Novak and one of his special creations, Dean's more than willing to reconsider.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: "Castiel owns a bakery that is beside Dean's auto shop."

\---

A solid hand landed on Dean's shoulder, startling him. 

"Shit!" Dean cried, banging his head on the '69 Camaro's hood as he jerked away. "Mother - God damnit."

"I'm sorry," a voice murmured, deep and dark, and Dean turned to glare at the man behind him, hand lifting to massage the tender spot at the back of his head. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Dean frowned, eyes giving the stranger a quick onceover. Dark pants splattered with white powder, blue pullover covered in the same. Sleeves pushed to his elbows even though the air had turned crisp and cool some weeks ago. Mussed hair and narrow face and eyes blue and wide enough to loosen the grim set of Dean's jaw, just a little. Pink lips and stubbled chin and-

Dean dropped his arm, a tight little headache forming at the base of his skull. "It's fine," he said, tone polite enough, though they both knew the sentiment wasn't quite there. Dean grabbed up his rag and wiped at the oil on his hands. "Help you?"

"Oh," the man said, nodding to the wide opening of the garage and the street beyond. "I recently bought the old hardware store next door," he began, hands fiddling with the wide, pink box he'd brought. 

"Bobby's place," Dean said. "Yeah, I saw the sign."

"I'm Castiel," he said, shifting the box to one hand and extending the other.

Dean stared a the offered hand, lips pursed. He didn't have time for this, didn't have time for nosy neighbors and idle chatter. Adler was going to be back any minute and Dean still wasn't sure what was wrong with his car. The old man was complaining of a strange ticking sound under the hood but so far Dean hadn't found a thing wrong, leaving him to wonder if the problem wasn't so much with the car but rather with the driver. Dean wouldn't doubt that. Adler certainly dressed the part but money could only buy so much, and the local five and dime was fresh out of competence.

Castiel pulled his empty hand back and lifted his box. "I brought pie," he stated.

Dean blinked, attention snapping back to the man standing before him.

"From my shop," Castiel clarified, nodding again towards the street.

Dean stared at Castiel, at the powder on his clothes and the touch of red on his cheeks. He was still irritated at the interruption, still annoyed about the headache, but - pie? "Hold on," Dean said, confused. "You turned the hardware store into a bakery?" he asked. 

"We're not open yet, not officially," Castiel said. "I only just got the kitchen operational, thought I'd whip something up, see how it turned out." 

Dean nodded, eyes on the pink box. New Guy brought him pie?

"And since you're my neighbor now, and we'll probably see each other a bit, you know, coming and going," Castiel continued, "I thought-"

"What kind is it?" Dean asked, green eyes darting up to meet Castiel's.

Castiel paused. He glanced down at the box, then back up at Dean. "It's pecan."

Warmth zinged through Dean's chest and his fingers clenched around his rag, nails digging into the dirty fabric. "Oh my God," he said, leaning back against the Camaro.

Castiel's face tightened, the barest hint of panic flashing across his eyes. "Do you not like pecan? Are you allergic? I can make something else."

"I _love_ pecan," Dean said, stomach rumbling in anticipation. Homemade pecan pie. He hadn't had homemade pecan pie - homemade pie period - in forever, it seemed.

And this guy, this stranger, had made a whole pie just for him. Just because.

And Dean hadn't even shook his hand.

Dean quickly reached towards Castiel, fingers still slick with grease. "Dean," he introduced himself, nearly shouting in his haste. At Castiel's bemused expression, Dean cleared his throat and tried again. "I'm Dean."

Castiel took his hand without hesitation. His fingers were a tad sticky but his palm was warm and his grip firm. An almost-smile curled up the corners of Castiel's mouth and softened his eyes. "Pleasure to meet you, Dean," he said.

Dean nodded and pushed himself upright, squeezing Castiel's hand once more before letting go. "So, uh," he said, rubbing a hand to the back of his neck.

"Still hurts?" Castiel asked.

"What hurts?" Dean said.

"Your head?" Castiel asked.

"Oh. Oh!" Dean said, waving a hand. "No, it's fine," he replied, with far more conviction than before. "Just curious if you brought a fork, is all," he said, aiming for nonchalant but landing somewhere between sheepish and kid-on-Christmas-morning eager.

Castiel flashed Dean one of his tiny smiles and popped open the lid of the pie box. A heavenly aroma, dark and rich, warm and sweet, wafted across the little garage towards Dean, filling his mouth with saliva and sending a funny little twitch tickling across his knees. "I hope it's not presumptuous," Castiel said, lifting the cutlery from where it was tucked behind the pie, "but I brought two."

Dean grinned and offered Castiel an easy shrug. "Your pie," he said. "Not presumptuous at all."

"Course, if your busy," Castiel said, lowering the box lid.

Dean followed Castiel's gaze to the car behind him. "What, that?" he asked, gesturing towards the open hood and the engine parts balanced precariously above the headlights. "That can wait."

"Alright, then," Castiel said, following as Dean lead him back towards the break room.

"So, you say you can make other flavors," Dean said. "Cherry? Apple?" Castiel nodded. "Blueberry?"

"Yes," Castiel answered.

Dean stopped, pausing Castiel with a light hand on his shoulder and an raised eyebrow. "Chocolate?" he asked.

"Of course."

Dean grinned and slung his arm around Castiel's shoulders, pulling him close. "Cas, I think we should be friends," Dean said.

Castiel huffed a laugh. "I'll pen that into my social calendar," he said, and allowed Dean to drag him along.

\---

End.


End file.
